Big Waves
I grew up in an island just a tad smaller than Guam. During the monsoon season, when I had already learned how to swim, I would run with my friends to the sea, rode the approaching swell, and swam under the foamy water. Our heads […]
Memoirs and songs.
I grew up in an island just a tad smaller than Guam. During the monsoon season, when I had already learned how to swim, I would run with my friends to the sea, rode the approaching swell, and swam under the foamy water. Our heads […]
The hissing of pumped air, the sweet putrid aroma of alcohol and kerosene, the spark of the red-tipped match that started it all, and the beginning of night in a far-flung village detached from the gallows of city lights.